The Forgiveness of Carlisle Cullen
by uyatongal
Summary: After the conclusion of the events in Breaking Dawn Carlisle Cullen returns to his father's grave to tell him about the life Carlisle has led and forgive him for the relationship they had while his father was alive. The story arc will span a long period of Carlisle's life so more characters than listed will be included.
1. Chapter 1

**1 - Present time**

"Darkness. It's funny how the most difficult of times are always spoken of as "dark times'."

The lone figure moves through the city of London. Cars are passing, people are laughing, life unfolds, all completely oblivious to the figure moving in shadow. He passes through the city center on his way to the outskirts. His destination is a small cemetery, completely forgotten to time. A rusty broken iron fence surrounds the overgrown and neglected landscape. The remains of church stands nearby. The wood of the church is long gone. Only a stone foundation and pieces of stone walls remain. No one remembers the name of the church. No one, that is, except the man. He stands in front of the church and remembers a day when it was alive with conversation. People laughing, singing, and praising the almighty. Now, nothing. As if to punctuate the thought he hears thunder and begins to feel the rain.

Taking a breath he steps through the broken fence. And walks to the grave. The graveyard is overgrown with most of the markers long gone, but he knows exactly where the grave is. He passes graves of friends long gone and remembers their vitality, their friendships. He also remembers how it all changed to fear and hatred. The ghosts of this graveyard are strong. They have haunted him through the years. He ran from them and hid. No more hiding, now. Time has passed and he has found peace. There is one last hurdle that remains. One piece of the past left to overcome.

Standing at the grave he sees what is left of the marker. Worn by time and the elements the words can no longer be seen. He remembers them. He knows them as deep as if he chiseled them himself. He runs his fingers along the marker tracing the name, Ptolemy Cullen.

As the rain falls a man is kneeling over a grave. His tears mixing with the rain. "Father, it's your son Carlisle. I was angry and lost. I was resentful and proud. Now I am a father and I almost lost a son. I understand now. I know the weight of responsibility you felt for your flock."

Thunder rolls and the rain swells. The wind whips through the graveyard carrying with it the whispers of a son to his father. "Father I understand and I forgive you. Too much time has passed between us. I want you to know who I am."

**2 - 1653 Spring - In the outskirts of London**

"Dammit boy! We are moving rocks not daydreaming." Ptolemy Cullen wore simple wool clothes, but even in simple clothes he was a striking figure. He stood taller than other men, but then that was in the eyes of a fourteen year old boy.

"You are truly a man of God, Elder Cullen. That the Lord would choose to take poor Sister Cullen and leave you with the burden of this child must be the tests of Job." Said Elder Smythe. He was another great man. Strong and proud he had fathered 9 sons and 3 daughters of the surviving children many were pillars of the church.

I was used to the taunts. For 14 years, I knew something was different about me. Others did what they were told. They sweated day and night toiling on the tasks at hand. Myself, I would often become lost in in my thoughts. Why do men act as they do? What is it that drives them to be so obedient? How is it that one is looked to as the leader and not another?

Today, however, was not a day of my pondering. Today word had come to London of a great witch trial in Germany. It seems that the country is rife with the works of the devil. Imagine if in your town, at your homes, coming face to face with the agents of the devil. Father has told stories of such trials he has been part of. He has said that the witch is a far less evil opponent than the vampire. We are building this church on the outskirts of London as a beacon of hope and a headquarters for the battle against the devil.

As I moved the rocks, I continued to contemplate the physiology of an agent of the devil. Certainly physiologically the devil would have to work through the confines of human anatomy. Witches, it seems, can call the demons to do their bidding and demons have the supernatural powers of the devil. This one I can understand for it is the demons doing their will. Vampires, however, are a different matter. Father says they were once human like everyone else but by their weakness of faith they are converted to another creature entirely. This creature born of satan is evil and vicious. It thirsts for the blood of Christian men.

How can this be? Man survives by the consumption of nutrients. Is it possible that all of these nutrients can be found in the blood? Father says they are cold and their skin is turned to stone. In the sun they are burned so they can only come out at night.. Surely this cannot be. Absolute conversion from one type of creature to another is an impossibility. The basic fundamentals of science prove this an impossibility.

A clap to my ear brought me out of this revelry.

"Boy, if you aren't going to make yourself useful then take the wagon and go to town. I have a delivery waiting at the store. While there purchase more nails and hammers."

"Yes, father"

"Be swift about it boy. The Lords work waits for no man."

London was in a time of transformation. Although the greatest intellectual changes were taking place on the Windsor side, in London, among the common folk, it was still a remarkable time. Oliver Cromwell had ejected Parliament and shifted government toward a more intellectual based global leader. Our navy was winning battles with the Dutch. The Globe was still showing the great plays of Shakespeare. I, in the meantime, was clearing rocks.

Not that I am ungrateful by any means. Starvation and poverty were rampant. I at least have food and a roof over my head, but I knew there was much more to this world. I could see it. I wanted more.

I had traveled the better part of an hour musing over my place in the world when I found myself awestruck. There, in a tree, I saw nothing short of a miracle from God.

She was slight of build with hair the brown color of the candies they sell in town. Her eyes brown but bright and inquisitive. Her face reminded me of a heart but perhaps that is only because at first site I fell madly in love.

We made quite the sight for a few moments. Me starting dumbstruck and her, a woman, up in a tree. Such boldness she had, even from my wagon I could feel her vitality. For an eternity I was lost in her eyes.

She broke the spell "What do you think you are doing staring at me as such?"

I was startled and made the horse jump. Time stopped as I tried to regain control of the horse while simultaneously running to the tree to stop her fall. With each agonizing inch she got closer to the ground in slow motion. I couldn't make it to her in time. She hit the ground with a an agonizing thud and cried out.

Finally, I was at her side. I touched her skin. I tried to ease her but I felt as I was intruding on God himself. Touching her was a blasphemy. She was wonder and grace. God had surely created a miracle with such beauty and, and, the foulest mouth I have ever heard.

"Dammit what type of an asshole are you to sneak up and startle a girl like that?"

I was dumbfounded

"Can you speak? Do you understand? By the grace of all that is holy I am sent a mute idiot that cannot even help me up."

I helped her up. Her skin was like lightning, it shocked me and made my heart stop. I helped her to her feet as she continued to curse at me. She stood up and she brushed off her pants. She was wearing pants. She was cursing at a rip in them which appeared to have blood on it. Such boldness a woman wearing pants speaking as foul as the men at the docks.

"You're, you're hurt there on your leg where the pants must've ripped and sharp cut…" I stammered incoherent nonsense.

"Seems God does have a sense of humor, as he didn't send me the mute idiot, but a crazed lunatic. No shit I'm cut, you made me fall from a damn tree."

This woman was a marvel. She was so self assured and so alive. My head was swimming.

"Not idiot, Carlisle Cullen" I managed to croak out

"Oh so there is a new type of idiot called a Carlisle is there? I am only teasing, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Mr. Cullen, I am Lisbet Weaver."

And with that, I met my first love.

I offered her a ride home so that she wouldn't have to walk on her hurt leg. No impropriety implied, I assure you. To my delight she accepted.

"So M'Lady, where my your chariot take you?"

Oh My God, did I just speak like that? Please God, I will give whatever sacrifice you require, just let me go back in time and stop looking like such an idiot.

Thankfully she only giggled.

"I live in London. Do you know where the meat market is?" She asked.

"Yes, it is on the way to the mercantile market I was heading to."

"We live in the apartment above the meat market."

This was excellent news. As we build the church I am spending a lot of time at the market. I will be able to see her and get to know her. My mind was running into the future of a life with her. We were already married with children when she returned me from my daydream.

"You're the preacher's kid right?"

"Yes my father is Elder Cullen, the minister, we are building a church just down the way…."

"Father says you are a bunch of superstitious fools clinging to beliefs the true church has long since abandoned." she interrupted.

With that, my perfect, imaginary life with her was dashed to pieces.

Changing the subject, I asked "What were you doing up in that tree?"

"Birds" she said, "or more rather the patterns the birds make."

I too had wondered about the reasoning behind the birds flying together in specific patterns.

"I have often wondered how they know when to move. Clearly, there isn't an instructor calling out orders, they move as if they are all sharing one mind," I said. It was the truth, but I was really just hoping it would make me sound better than a superstitious fool.

"Here's where I get off," she said, "thanks for the ride."

"I am very happy we met, Lisbet Weaver," I said as formally as I could muster. This was my last chance to impress the girl.

"Happy? You are happy I have torn my pants and have physical harm from our meeting?" she asked.

Devastated I stammered "No, I meant uh... ."

"Just kidding, glad to meet you to," and with that she was gone.

I went on to the market and picked up Father's delivery. I was still amazed at this wondrous woman. Not only was she beautiful, but intelligent too. She was thinking of things that I was thinking. She is surely a sign from God. This must be my destiny. I must find a way to speak to her again. She is….

Whap!

Smacked across the ear I was returned to the present. There was my Father and the other elders. Even some of the children who were helping clear the land.

"Boy, I told you to pick up more hammers and nails. You return with an empty cart save for the package."

"Useless I say," muttered one of the Elders with many indicating their agreements.

"No dinner for you, boy, clear the rocks on the far end there so your stupidity doesn't infect the rest of us."

In the present time the rain has gotten worse as Carlisle absently pulls weeds away from his father's gravestone.

"You see father? You didn't know, I wasn't a stupid boy, I was in love."


	2. Chapter 2

**3 - 1653 Summer - London and Outskirts**

I made every excuse I could to travel into town. Suddenly, we were going through nails a lot faster, and it seems there was a shortage of paint which forced me to keep coming back. I would see her now and then, but she was always with someone and didn't seem to notice me. On my way to town, I would linger at the tree hoping she would come. It wouldn't be proper for me to just intrude on her so instead I did the other proper thing and spied on her.

She had a regular circle of friends she would visit with, and she would go back and forth with her parents or others I believe from her church. The most important thing is that, in all my spying, I never saw her with a male suitor.

We had finally gotten the church built. We were still painting and the women were doing the dressings inside. In punishment for something I had done, I was now tasked with clearing a field for the horses and a cemetery. This was a hot year. I hear in some areas of England there is even a drought. Clearing rocks was tedious and back breaking work. I was shirtless and sweating. I was taking a break.

"Carlisle Cullen, I was wondering when I would find you," it was her voice, even more lovely than I remembered.

She came into the clearing and I was surprised to see her in a beautiful lavender dress.

"Oh no, dear Carlisle, have you been struck mute again?" she teased.

"No, I am just surprised to find you here and in a dress," I stammered.

"Why Carlisle, did you not notice that I am a woman."

"No, no, by no means was I disrespecting you. I was just commenting…," she cut me off

"I must make a confession, I've been spying on you as you were working," I started to feel myself blush

"Now that isn't very proper of you is it, Lisbet? You should be ashamed of yourself," and with that she started laughing.

"The church is looking lovely. When will it open?"

"Sometime in Winter I would imagine."

She kept stealing glances at me. It was like I was being studied. I didn't care. I had my Lisbet here with me again, and my heart was racing.

We made small talk for the better part of an hour. We talked about life in town. She was particularly concerned for the poverty in the market and dock districts. She told me of the sick children and the orphans. She is an angel of mercy who takes leftover meat that is close to spoiling and brings it to the poor. She is a brilliant business woman, because sometimes she talks her father into giving her meat she can trade for bread or vegetables to bring. Her eyes were twinkling as she told me these things. This was her passion.

I must admit, I missed a good portion of that conversation. I was intrigued about how her hair rested just so on her shoulders, and how sometimes she would slightly squint her eyes when she talked. She had freckles. She had a small mole on her chest right above her bosom that rose and fell with her chest as she breathed. She spoke different than the Lisbet I met before. This one more refined and calculated, yet full of mischief and innuendo.

"Those rocks are hard as the shaft, too" she asked.

Shocked, I was at a loss of words. Then she pointed at the stick I used to help dig the rocks up and giggled.

This woman was toying with me. Two can play at this game.

"Bend over here to get that rock. I will use my shaft and show you."

She laughed and said something about getting her dress dirty. We both started laughing. We continued talking for a while but now it was easier. The ice was broken and there was no denying her attraction to me too.

"Well, Mr. Cullen I must be going now. It will be getting late and I have a ways to get home." It was then that I noticed the carriage near the church and her father waving to her.

"It has been a real pleasure seeing you again," she said, "maybe now you will come talk to me instead of just watching me."

My face was burning with embarrassment as we said our goodbyes. This was made even worse after she left and I realized I still did not have my shirt on.

**4. 1653 - Fall - London and Outskirts**

After that conversation, Lisbet and I tried to see each other every day. We had our chores and various tasks to complete, but when we weren't working we were together. She was so intelligent and funny. We were always laughing or having some sort of serious discussion about one thing or another. We would solve all the world's problems every day.

I would join her when I could on her missions to the poor. Her descriptions of their conditions was nowhere near the truth. Things were much worse. People starving every day. Across the way in Westminster the dogs were going to bed with full bellies but here in the market district people were dying. Under the protectorate of Oliver Cromwell, England was prospering abroad but here in the slums, England was suffering. It thrilled her that I too cared for the poor. In truth, I was a liar. I really didn't think much about it. I was with her. That was all I wanted.

On foot it would take close to an hour to get to her door from the church. When we weren't helping the poor or doing things in town we would meet in between. There wasn't a large number of homes where we would meet so we could walk together in peace and enjoy the nature around us.

"Do you still study the birds much?" I asked as we strolled hand in hand.

"Sometimes," she said, then playfully nudged me with her shoulder, "but I don't really have a lot of time anymore."

"I've thought about it. I think it's a lot like we are."

"Us, Carlisle, you think we are like birds?"

"No, I mean people, we are very similar. We move and act in patterns. Wars, faith, social classes, they are all patterns. Just like the birds."

"I'm not sure you will see a bird wearing a crown, but I see what you mean. It is like us. You and I. We walk in synchrony. We even breathe in synchrony. Really. I have felt it when you hold me."

"I wonder who comes up with the patterns?" she said.

"God."

We walked in silence for a little bit, then it started to rain. We ran for shelter in the trees, but it didn't help. We were getting soaked.

We stopped in some thick woods as it was difficult to pick our way through the undergrowth. I pulled her close and tried to shield her from the rain. She looked up at me and I watched the raindrops fall from her eyelashes. I followed them as they passed down her face to the curl of her lips. The water made her lips glisten. Then running past her lips to her neck. I saw light sparkle on her neck. It danced with each breath she took.

She wore a simple outfit. It wasn't proper to wear pants when we were together, but when we were walking she wasn't wearing the full regalia of London fashion either. The was a simple dress with corset. As it got wet the dress began to cling to her, revealing the body beneath.

"Carlisle," she whispered to me

I looked into those beautiful eyes. They shone with a beauty I will never be able to describe.

"I love you," she said.

I felt like the wind was taken from me. I couldn't breathe. How was it possible that this woman could ever love a man like me. I am way out of my league.

"Lisbet, I have loved you since the day you fell from that tree. Ever since that day I have been yours."

"and I have been yours, Carlisle."

She rested her head on my chest, and for the first time, I noticed we were breathing in synchrony.

**5 - Present Day**

You see Father, she was showing me something I had never seen before. When Mother died, something died within you as well. I can see that now. You focused your energy and attention into the church. You became hard and cold.

This woman, she showed me what it feels like to be truly loved. I don't doubt that you cared, but the love of a family, of a father and a son was absent. We merely co-existed.

You were on a mission then. With the church built and the congregation growing you were busy, focused on saving the world from the demons that walk the Earth. It was a good thing. While you were busy, I was with Lisbet. I couldn't have been happier.

The wonder of it, Father. She was intelligent and fun, she was interested in my musings and even understood them.

The sun was brighter and the sky was bluer. The world was a much better place because I had my Lisbet.


	3. Chapter 3

**6. 1653 - Fall - Outskirts of London**

She met me at our usual place.

"I want to look at the patterns the fish move in," she said.

She was in her pants and shirt similar to the day I met her.

On the walk through the woods, we discussed the gossip of the day. More witch trials in Germany. More disease in London. The news was depressing, but somehow she made it seem ok.

We came to a spring fed pond almost a kilometer from the main road. The water was clear so you could see the fish quite well.

"See, they move in patterns similar to the birds," she said.

"Only the little ones," I said, "notice how the big ones seem to move almost deliberately opposite of each other."

"These remind me more of people. The people moving in groups here and there with a few bigger ones redirecting them," she said as the sun shone through her hair.

I am sure there was more of an intellectual conversation that followed but I was more involved with how the sun danced through her hair and highlighted her face. She had a curl of hair crossing her shoulder. It bounced as she spoke. The reflection of the sunlight from the pond onto her face made her skin appear to sparkle. It highlighted her beauty. Her eyes were glistening as the reflections passed over them. Back to her hair, highlighted like a halo around her face.

Abruptly she stood up. We were sitting at the water's edge so now she stood above me. In her shadow, I was caught off guard and didn't realize what was happening.

She removed her shirt, then her pants. I was just coming to the realization of what was happening when she removed her undergarments. She stood before me naked for only a moment then plunged into the water.

I had never seen a naked woman before. Now, I wondered if I still hadn't. What just happened? One moment we were talking and the next she was naked. My heart was pounding as I watched her head emerge from the water.I felt the hot rush of embarrassment as I stared at her bare shoulders and through the ripples of the water, the skin beneath.

"You were apparently bored with our conversation, so I thought I might go swimming," she called to me.

"You certainly have my attention now," I replied.

"Come join me Carlisle, the water is a little cold," she said

My embarassment for staring at her faded as I stood up and found something new to be embarrassed about. I had become excited and it most definitely showed.

"Oh dear, Carlisle, I'm afraid your current condition might make it difficult to remove your pants," she called to me. She is never one to miss the opportunity to tease me.

Of course, this only forced me to prove her wrong, so I rapidly removed my clothes and eased into the water.

She was right it was cold. I should have jumped in, for now I was doing a strange dance of getting wet while trying not to get wet.

Finally eased into the water, we were facing each other on opposite sides of the pond. I couldn't stop looking at her. Embarrassed, as I should be, to see her in this way, I could not pretend to act with modesty. She pulled her hair behind her back. I could see her shoulders clearly. I watched the way the water ran down her shoulders to her chest as she moved in the water. WIth the sun glistening on the water what was below was obscured but for the short glimpses I had, I could only imagine the beauty that lies beneath. More than just her body, I could see her vitality and energy. She was trembling. The water danced around and off of her. It looked as if she was giving the water life as it moved around her.

This woman was incredible. Everything about her was nothing shy of amazing. I have never before known a person so beautiful and so full of life. Here we were outside in a pond naked. I never could have imagined this moment.

She moved toward me. Gracefully and slowly. It was so slow it was maddening, I must admit. I was watching as more of her was becoming visible. I could clearly make out her body beneath the water. I could see the curves of her breasts and her back. She came up and placed her chest against mine. She laid her head against me. She was trembling.

I wrapped my arms around her the first pulling our chests tighter together and the second finding the small of her back. Skin on skin, I could feel our hearts beat in synchrony. Her hand came to the small of my back and she pulled me closer to her. I did the same. Holding tightly to me she looked up.

We locked eyes. I realized that at this moment, I had never felt more alive. I could stay like this for eternity even if it meant damnation for my soul, I didn't care. This moment was all that mattered. I had found my heaven and it was here and now.

She kissed me. I closed my eyes and just enjoyed the feel of her lips on mine. Our bodies pressed together. I was filled with emotions I will never be able to explain. My arm still around her shoulders began to feel her back with my other. I traced the line of her spine and caressed her shoulder blades. I moved along her back to her rear and held it in my hand. I traced up and down her back as she did mine.

My hand went to her side and she moved back opening a space to me. Inviting me to explore her more. Along her side I cupped my hand on her hip. It felt so perfect in my palm. Along her side to beneath her breast. Our kiss became more intense. Her hand pulling my neck into her. I moved my hand to her breast and she gasped. Pulling our hips together. Her nipple was hard as I cupped my hand around it. Her one hand pulling my neck while the other went between my legs. From base to tip she caressed me moaning slightly as we kissed.

I leaned in and kissed her neck while my hand moved back to her hip. I bit slightly at her while I kissed which made her moan more. I moved my hand and she parted her legs. My palm slid across her pelvic bone and my fingers danced across her. She pulled me back to her kissing with a fury while she moved against my fingers. Rubbing furiously now she was moaning louder and pushing herself against me. My finger slipped inside of her and she threw her head back in ecstasy. She bit my neck now and was rubbing on me with more force. She was pushing her body against me as my finger explored inside her.

She let out a loud moan then pulled herself against me pushing my hands away. With her arms wrapped around me and our bodies close together she pushed me to the shore. As we came to the shore I was on my back as she slid up on top of me. She held our chests together and slid above me, then back down as she gently guided me into her. She was slowly moving her hips back and forth while I marveled at this sensation. More than just sex, I felt we were connected. I felt that by this act of us moving together we were becoming one person. I was melting into her as she was into me.

Her moving grew faster as she raised up on her arms above me. My hips moving with hers I wanted to go deeper and further into her. We moved again in synchrony as our breathing grew more rapid and moved faster, harder.

She threw her head back and screamed, her body pulsating around mine. I joined her pulling her back to me as I exploded.

We laid like that for what could've been hours. I was listening to the birds and watching the trees move in the wind. I felt her heart beating with mine and I remember thinking that this was as close to perfection and I would ever be.

"So, apparently the shaft is as hard as the rocks," she teased breaking the silence.

"I would be more than happy to repeat the experiment," I replied.

**7. Present Day**

I was a man now, Father. I wanted to tell you. I so wanted to talk about it and accept my position with the other elders. We weren't married though. Although we had discussed it, we still had made no plans for marriage.

I knew you wouldn't understand. I could hear your voice calling us sinners and abominations. With the fervor you were chasing the the devil's minions, I wasn't sure you wouldn't call us demons. The thought of the shame and pain you would've caused her kept me quiet. I never spoke to anyone of this moment before. It is liberating to speak of it now.

Father, she touched a part of my heart I never knew was there. She showed me what it was like to be spontaneous and free, and most importantly loved. I wasn't just living, trudging down the path of my life. I now had purpose and meaning. My purpose was love and my meaning was her. She hung the moon Father. I worshipped at her altar.

Perhaps I should have felt guilty or ashamed but I will admit this was only the first of many visits to the pond. We would sneak away every chance we could. When not at the pond, my hands still seemed to find their way all over her body.

Weeks passed with us in this bliss. We continued our routine of chores, visiting the poor and sick, working at the church, and the pond. It was too cool to swim but that's why God invented blankets right?

Carlisle leaned against his Father's grave again. His tears more prevalent.

Then it ended.


	4. Chapter 4

**8. 1653 - Winter - London**

As hot as the Summer had been, the winter was proving to be equally as cold. For the past couple of months, Father and the rest of the elders spent their nights hunting the demons. When they returned he would sleep through the days. Since the weather was getting colder, I had less chores to do, which meant that I had more time with Lisbet.

"Neither fit for man nor beast," we heard the man proclaim as he passed us on the street.

The snow was cold and dirty. Just walking through it was chilling to the bone.

"It's true, you know," she said as we walked to the docks, "more and more often I am seeing the homes infested with the rats."

"It's only fair they have a warm place as well," I joked.

"It's not funny!" she exclaimed. "Those rats bring diseases. Many of our people have fallen ill."

Suddenly, I was reminded of the Black Death. It killed so many people just a generation ago. Father would hold sermons proclaiming it the work of the devil, but it was carried by rats. Rats like those Lisbet was seeing. The Black Death was still infecting people and people were still dying. The only real difference now was that when the plague was suspected the infected and their families would just disappear. Sent away to some asylum or worse.

"I forbid you from continuing these visits to the poor," I said abruptly. Immediately regretting my words.

"You what?" she replied incredulously. Her face immediately tightened and she stepped back looking as if she was going to hit me.

I knew I had overstepped my bounds. I spoke out of fear, but now I had no choice but continue.

"I am to be your husband Lisbet, and for the benefit of your safety, I wish that you would no longer carry on these visits to the poor," I said trying to soften my tone from the command I had blurted out.

She turned to face me and in a flood of words proclaimed, "Carlisle we have been together long enough now that you should know I will not be given orders like some scullery maid. If I am to be married to you, then you had best recognize now that it will be an equal partnership or no partnership at all."With that she stormed away from me.

My heart was in my throat and I was on the verge of tears. Pride be damned, there was no way I was losing this girl over a mis-spoke word.

I rushed to catch up with her. "Lisbet, I'm sorry. It's just that I love you so and fear for your safety," I said

"I know," she replied, "I'm tired and it's so frustratingly hopeless. I want to go somewhere that makes me see there is still hope for the future. I want to have a fresh start with new possibilities."

"It's settled then," I said. "Once we're married we should move to the colonies."

"The colonies?" she said.

"Absolutely, they are growing and prosperous with a world of opportunities for those brave enough to go." I replied.

She soon became excited as we talked about our future oceans away from the pain and suffering here. I would open a church and we would meet the natives. They would show us their world. We would do so many wondrous things.

Captivated by the story, I hardly noticed her coughing and the dark circles around her eyes.

Through the course of the winter, I would visit her in London and accompany her on her visits to the poor. As Winter progressed, our visits were shorter as she was getting tired more often. We spoke of the future but it seemed her excitement had changed. She was quieter and not the vibrant woman that fell out of the tree. I had become certain she was with child even though she assured me that was not the case. This was just not like her. Something had to be wrong.

Her coughing had grown worse and she was having a shortness of breath. On one of our walks back to her home, she was overcome by a fit of coughing and doubled over. I was supporting her as she coughed, the whole time I was panic stricken that something was very wrong.

"Lisbet we need to get you back quickly," I was trying to stand her back up so we could hurry on.

When she stood, I could see the blood on the snow.

I fell to my knees clutching her sobbing, "No. No, not you. Anyone but you. God take me not her. She is wonderful and I am nothing."

Now, it was her helping me to my feet.

I looked up at her. The sun danced across her pale face. The wet had made her hair fall close to her face. It framed her eyes. Her eyes which were were tired and glossed over. I did not see them radiating her life. Instead, I saw them reflecting her death.

"It will be ok, Carlisle. I will get better," she whispered.

I got her to her house and her mother took her away from me. Our hands lingered for a moment. I was pushed away by the activity as she was taken by her family and I failed to recognize the importance of this moment because it was our farewell. It was the last time I held her hand.

I prayed. I prayed to a God I had pretended to believe in for so long. I begged forgiveness. "Please spare her," but I knew my prayers were on deaf ears. I had sinned and turned away from God. This was my punishment. Because of me Lisbet was suffering.

I would come to the house over the following days and knock on the door. No one ever answered. The house remained silent and dark.

**9. Present Time**

Carlisle was silent for a few moments. Then he started to sob. His body wracked with the pain of carrying this secret for so long. For a while, the only sounds were the rain and Carlisle's sobs.

Father, you were proud of me. You applauded the fervor with which I was praying to God. As I pelted you with questions of sin and forgiveness, you thought I was finally realizing my place in God's work.

Truth is, Father, I just wanted to save Lisbet's soul. I knew she was gone, but I wanted God to forgive her. I wanted to make sure she rested in heaven while I suffered here in a hell without her.

I studied religion with a ferocity I never had before. In quiet times, when I wasn't focusing on my studies, she would come back to me. My mind would replay everything that happened between us. I would obsess about every single moment, repeating over and over in my mind again and again. What could I have done better? What would I do differently? Her hair in the sunlight and the sparkle of her eyes...No! I had to stop the thoughts. I couldn't, they would hit me in floods and overwhelm me. My heart would race and I couldn't remain still. I would pace about while my shoulders ached and I would have trouble breathing. In time it would pass. My body would be exhausted and I would fall to a restless sleep. I couldn't let this keep happening so I started focusing on our salvation.

At nights when you would go on your hunts, I would pace the floor immersed in the Bible or some other text. Reading and rereading passages in order to get more meaning. I had rituals for the way I would walk and the steps I would take. 10 steps to the left turn 2 steps to the right turn 10 steps back turn and so on. It was the only way I could keep from going mad.

You and the elders would say the "White Plague" was caused by vampires. It was tuberculosis, but I believed you. Only an agent of the devil could take my Lisbet away.

That's when I changed. You had said so yourself. I became a man driven for redemption for myself and for my beloved Lisbet. Gone were the days of musing why the birds would fly as they do, that was not important. Our souls were what was important and you helped to fuel that flame.

Truly, I'm not blaming you, Father. You never knew of the relationship Lisbet and I had. When her family was taken away, you commented on how they never truly believed and how her father called you foolish. This was God's just punishment that vampires would come upon their family. You finally had a son interested in the work you do. I finally had real conversations with you and planned a future where I would take over the church.

This would carry on for three more years. I was growing more obsessed with religion and you fueling my obsession. At 18, I was finally old enough to hunt. Now, I had the chance to show my worthiness to God.


	5. Chapter 5

**10. 1657 - London Fall**

Years of Cromwell's wars left London in more squallor than ever. There no longer was a middle class. You were either one of the privileged living on the Windsor side or you were scraping a living from the scraps they threw across the river. In recent years there was a more pronounced Gypsy presence. They added to the frustrations of the populace. Hatred and bigotry brewed between the ethnic groups often spilling into violence.

When I would think about it I felt guilty. Through the promise of saving souls we were well fed and cared for. As stewards of God on Earth weren't we obliged to help those less fortunate? That would be what Lisbet would want. It angered me, however, to think of how they killed her. I understand the nature of disease and know that it truly was not their fault she died, but she died helping them. The logic could not overcome my emotions so I was a man torn. I felt a strong compelling desire to do the right thing but could not bring myself to it. Instead I threw myself into preparations for hunting the Devil's minions on Earth. I would buy salvation for Lisbet and I through the blood of demons. God would forgive us of our sin.

"The demons will take on many forms. They have different strengths depending on their class," my father was explaining to us.

"They will appear human. Some will run with speeds unimaginable or will stand and fight with incredible strength," he continued. "The ones that fight cannot be overcome. Fire will delay their attack long enough for retreat. I believe these are the warrior class."

"The others I believe are of a lesser class," he continued while picking up a pike. "These will beg and try to deceive you that they are not demons. Do not be persuaded my brothers and sisters for they are agents of the Devil and masters of lies."

He twirled the pike over his head ending with a forward thrust. "Stab them in the heart with haste so that they do not have time to fight back. Once we are done we burn the bodies."

He went on to talk about the class structures within the demon community and how we may encounter some of them already destroyed from fighting amongst themselves. Apparently it was not uncommon to find them ripped apart. I wasn't listening though as I was lost in thought about how to tell the difference between a demon and an innocent bystander.

The best answer I got from one of the elders was "Let God sort them out."

Something was wrong about this statement, however I was eager to prove my worthiness to God so I pushed it from my mind.

We left that night, armed with the might of God and steel. We were whipped into a frenzy by the words of my Father.

The night was unusually dark or perhaps that is just how I remember it to have been. There was a mist across the field. Beyond that mist was the Gypsy village. Father's informants had reported they had witnessed witches casting spells and demons walking among the Gypsies. What would we find there beyond the mist? My heart was racing as we waited for the signal to advance. Despite the cold I was sweating and couldn't keep still. I kept checking my knife and my pike Did I remember to sharpen the pike? Was the knife still in my pocket? Are Is that movement ahead? Did I sharpen my pike? Did I forget my knife? My mind was racing.

After what seemed to be an hour of agonizing anticipation we received the signal to advance. Carefully we picked our way through the debris of their poverty stricken lives until we came upon a group of shacks.

They were barely shacks at all. More wood propped together with fabric binding and straw or mud filling the holes. The village reeked of rotten food and waste. I also smelt death. I smelled that horrible copper stench of blood. Suddenly and all at once the village was alive with screaming. Men were running from the shacks and there were terrible noises of a fight. The sounds weren't all human. There was another fight going on. This one was more animal like. They were wild and terrifying.

Hurrying through the pandemonium we worked our way to the source of the screaming finding two women on the ground clutching their men. The men were quite dead as their throats appeared to be ripped out. They were wailing in a language I could not understand. It sounded like they were calling to God, but I could not be sure. We left the grisly scene to follow the sounds of fighting. Signs of struggle took us into the forest near the village, and although a path had been cleared by the fighting we were still slow to get to the scene. We had to carefully pick our way through the underbrush and the mist obscured our view. By the time we came upon the clearing the sounds of battle had ended. Expecting to see a body or at least some evidence something was fighting here, we were surprised to find there was no evidence a fight had ever occurred.

Some of the elders said they saw a man running from the scene and unbelievable speeds. I could swear that I saw a beast on 4 legs running after him. It was impossible though. The speeds they left the scene were incredible. I was left to wonder if what I saw was just my imagination stirred by the excitement.

There would be no victory this night. Two men were dead and two wives were now widows. After a thorough search of the village we returned to the church dismayed by our failure.

Several weeks passed without incident. We would search out the demons but never come as close as we had on my first night.

"They burn up in the daylight," explained one elder.

"They cannot stand the sight of the Crucifix," said another.

"They can turn into giant beasts." This one got my attention. It validated what I saw on that first night.

"Tell me more," I asked.

"Yes, I seen 'em. One minute they are men and the next they turn into great wolves"

Could it be that this was what I saw? If so then what kind of class struggle would cause the demon to be fighting another of its kind when it was obvious we were attacking as well? I definitely heard two of the creatures fighting and no evidence of them fighting us mortals.

Something was wrong. There was more to this situation than meets the eye.


	6. Chapter 6

12. 1658 - Outskirts of London - Summer

It had rained throughout the day. The ground was slick with mud. We had a full moon to light our way. After several raids without incident, I was leading my own group of hunters. We were faster, unencumbered by age, we were the young ambitious hunters. We were getting closer.

"Look there. See the reflection of the moon in the water of the puddles? There is a pattern to them. Tracks," a church elder Victor, was whispering to me as we surveyed the scene.

"There is a smell as well," I commented. "Something has been through here recently."

The smell was more of a combination of smells. We had come across this before in areas where attacks had occurred. First, there was an enticing smell. It set you at ease and made you want to seek it out. Then, there was the other, a more conflicting smell of sweat and large animals. It made you want to run away.

I knew that we were close. This was the closest we have ever been since that first night. Across the field near a river there was another gypsy camp. Father said the gypsies were in league with the devil. They were harboring the demons and causing such calamity to the Christians. It must be true. The path of the great beasts and the smell of death had brought us to this place.

We moved to the tracks so we could inspect them further.

"Hollee… Christ. Look at the size of those prints," said Victor.

They were huge. Easily the size of a bear, but with the unmistakingly print of a dog.

"Turned to a monster I'll say. We ought to…," Victor was cut short as something sped by us so fast it knocked me to the ground. When I looked up Victor was gone.

I looked to see where everyone else in the hunting party was. I locked eyes on an elder of the group, but in a flash he was gone, too. I heard a muffled scream as he was carried away.

"Gather around. Gather around!" I yelled to the remainder of our party. We formed to a circle back to back preparing for a fight.

It was a clear night with good visibility, yet demons lurked among us. Every shadow carried our death. Every sound heralded our doom. Something lumbered towards us and we started to form up to respond; however, we were frozen in place by the low growl of multiple beasts. As I listened, I heard more of them coming from the distance.

I heard curses and prayers from the other men as we stood there transfixed by the sound. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. I could do neither. Paralyzed by fear, I could only listen to the growls and their heavy footfalls. Or perhaps not footfalls at all, just the loud beating of my heart.

In a flash, another one of our party was knocked aside and pulled from our circle by a man. This man must've been a demon possessed, because he ran at an incredible pace and had the strength to carry a grown man , as the demon ran past, he was knocked headlong with a crash. Our man fell to the side as the great beast and the demon stared at each other readying to fight.

In a fury, they began fighting. They moved incredibly fast matching blow to blow. Their blows were deafening. Another beast jumped to them. Then, from behind me came another. This one was dark as the abyss and a giant. These beasts were wolves, yet they were the size of small horses. They continued attacking the demon, who, despite being the same size as the rest of us, was able to knock them aside as they snarled and bit at his head and arms.

The three of us that remained from the hunting party rushed to aid our fallen comrade as the wolves and demon struggled away from us. Once we were together, we ran toward the commotion to watch, but the fight was over before we arrived. With a deafening crack we saw a wolf take off the man's head. Before the body hit the ground, the other wolves had removed his arms as well.

As if noticing us for the first time, the wolves stopped and looked at us. Hearts beating, I knew these were the agents of the devil my father had warned us about. These wolves would now devour us and from what we had just witnessed, I didn't believe there was anything we could do about it.

I could hear the sounds of the other hunting parties coming toward us, surely alerted by the commotion. Even with help on the way, I knew we would be dead before they arrived. These wolves would tear us apart before anyone could get here.

The wolves looked at us with what I can only describe as understanding. They turned and departed.

I felt God had surely intervened on our behalf.

As the rest of the hunters caught up with us, we all went to survey the damage done to the man by the wolves.

Expecting to see the gore of a man ripped to pieces we were shocked to find that he was shattered like a rock will shatter when hit with a chisel. The body was hard like a statue. It's features perfect even as it lay ruined in pieces.

"Surely, we have found one of the vampires," my Father declared. The others murmured their agreement as they inspected the body.

"This village is cursed, we must purge this land of the devil's minions," he continued.

Filled with the excitement for finally killing a vampire and the bloodlust for all the devil had caused, we set upon the gypsy village with unholy wrath.

13. Present

I want to forget that night. The cries of the gypsies. Their screams as they were put to death still haunt me. It was true they tried to fight back, but we were better armed and fueled by our religious fervor.

They were innocents. They were murdered and I did nothing to stop it. In their strange language they cried out to their God, and in their language they pleaded for mercy. They were trying to explain something we could not understand; something to do with the Volturi.

After the massacre, we burned the bodies. There was an inquisition of course. With the deaths in the countryside, people were relieved to find that the demons responsible were destroyed. We were not only found innocent of any crimes, we were applauded for our work.

We were heroes, and I am ashamed to say I was swept up into it. Now that word was spreading, our church was full, and even though we had lost people during the hunt for the demon, the ranks of the hunters were swelling.

Somewhere during this, I lost sight of what we were fighting for.

I became you.

Carlisle stood quiet for a moment. Thinking of that terrible time.

"How many died, Father? How many were killed in the name of God? It wasn't a hunt for demons, it was a genocide of gypsies. It would be a century before I learned the truth of what we had done. While in the court of the Volturi, I was told how vampires would spread rumors that it was the gypsies who were in league with the devil. They would guide us to do their work for them as the gypsies were the ones that were turning into wolves and protecting man from the vampires.

I did not know this then. Time passed, and you got older. I started to take your place. Our hunts sometimes would be successful. We would find the remains of the vampires killed by the wolves. We would be proud of ridding the world of evil. More innocents died. More of our allies unwittingly destroyed. Years came and went. I was taking more of a leadership role.

My raids were successful, but the events of the raid on the gypsy village haunted me. I wasn't sure we were doing the right thing. Surely, dispatching the demons preying on mankind was pleasing to God, but for some reason I just wasn't sure anymore.

Then, came the raid on London.


	7. Chapter 7

**14. 1663 - London - Fall**

Initially, it was believed that we were besieged by all manner of demon. Witches, werewolves, vampires, and every other type of demon in service of the devil. Things had changed, however. Since the destruction of the gypsy village, the other gypsies in other villages had left the area. Gone were the sightings of the werewolves and witches. There were no more rumors of spells and undead spirits. Now we were faced with the most powerful of the devil's minions. We were fighting the vampires.

Since the gypsies left, the strange deaths were no longer isolated to the outer villages of London. Now, it was rumored that not even the nobility were immune. Father focused on the belief that the attacks were coming from areas where the people were less godly. I thought differently. There was a pattern to the attacks. From what I could tell, these patterns led me to believe that the attacks were within defined areas. Almost how a predator, such as a lion, is territorial in areas where it hunts. In certain areas, the attacks were more violent. In others, only women or children. I believed we were not seeing the work of a single group of vampires, but instead, multiple vampires acting individually. Each with their own tastes and methods.

My hunting party would plot the deaths on a map. We would take into account the habits of the people living in the area, which brought us closer to our prey. We were anticipating their attacks, and getting quite good at finding them quickly. Often, we were the first on the scene, and we alerted the authorities. With each hunt, we were getting closer. The kills were fresher and several times, I believe we saw the vampire as it left the scene.

Each hunt was filled with anticipation as I knew I was getting close to facing the vampire again, but this time there would not be a wolf to intervene.

It was well past midnight. Away from the brothels and docks, this part of London was asleep. Quiet as the grave, or so they would say.

"Carlisle they aren't coming. We missed them again," it was Thomas. He was a new addition to our group. He was young and eager for a fight.

"We're never at the right place and the right time," called out Charles who, much to my dismay, was urinating into the gutter.

"Quiet you, or they will know we are here," I scolded

"We have been closer than any of the other groups," I reminded them all.

The five of us, with the exception of Charles, were huddled in shadow at a storefront. I didn't know how good the senses were on the vampire, but I imagined they would be similar to that of any predator. They would be acute and alert.

The street remained vacant, but suddenly I felt a wave of anxiety mixed with dread. Something was not right, but I could not see anything out of place. My heart started beating faster and I could feel the fear beginning to take hold of me. That's when I saw movement on the rooftop at the street's end.

"Charles move back now!" I cried out, but it was too late. Before I said my last word, Charles was gone. I thought I heard a cry from behind us, but I couldn't be sure.

"What, what, what…," Thomas kept asking as we all stood frozen to the spot. Some hunters we were, being paralyzed by fear at the time of the attack. I even think one of us had dropped their pike.

There was a noise behind us. It was the sickening noise of a body falling to the ground. I knew that meant Charles was dead and we were in danger.

"Move, move!" I called out and started to run to the opposite end of the street.

I turned to check on my men who were now running to join me. Then, the breeze carried that familiar smell. It was a wonderful, captivating smell. It lured me into a more relaxed state where I was thinking maybe I over reacted.

The vampire raced across the street and stole another of the men. If we continue to run the vampire will just pick us off one by one. We had to make a stand. Further down the street, a vending stall stood vacant.

"There, to the stall," I called out as I ran.

As I crouched behind the stall, I called out to the men,"Here, gather here."

Only Thomas and William joined me at the vending cart. William had been part of our group since the beginning. He knew what we were in for. Thomas had no idea and was eager to fight.

"One of you can go stand in front. Then, me and the other can rush from the sides when he comes," Thomas said.

"Did you see his speed?" I asked. "There is no way we could rush fast enough to save the first man. It would be suicide."

"We have good cover, we stay here and hope he's had his fill or we defend this place if he comes" said William

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," came a voice from down the street.

"My God, they speak?" said Thomas giving voice to my thoughts. I had always believed the vampires were predators, no different than the beasts. I saw them in clothing, surely they had some intelligence, but I never imagined they could speak.

"I can smell you," it said in a sing song voice that was clearly intended to mock us.

Before I could consider the intelligence of mocking us, there was rushing sound, then an explosion as the vending stall we were hiding behind was completely destroyed.

Unprotected, I moved quickly to spear the vampire with my pike, but he was faster and gave me a blow to the face, which sent me sprawling several feet back. While his attention was turned to me, William and Thomas struck with such force that William's pike split. The attack had no impact on the vampire. William scrambled back, but Thomas wasn't fast enough. In a single move, the vampire lifted him up and plunged his face into Thomas' neck.

The scene was so shocking that I moved without thinking. I rushed the vampire attempting to save Thomas. The vampire was too fast, and with a move too fast to comprehend, he had me in his clutches and was tearing at my neck.

For a moment, everything slowed down. I was acutely aware of everything around me. I could hear the other hunting parties as they were rushing to us. I could see the crumpled body of Thomas. My eyes locked on William and I could see his terror.

Then, there was pain. I felt the intense rush of pain as my neck was ripped open; however, that pain was nothing in comparison to the intense burning spreading from the wound. This was no ordinary burn. I felt that if I could look inside, I would see that everything inside me was rapidly melting into nothing.

The pain was maddening, but I could hear the others coming quickly. It sounded like a mob. Maybe father got more to join him. It would be too late for me, though. I was dying and nothing could stop that.

Suddenly, I was cast aside as the vampire raced away from the growing mob. I scrambled to hide in a nearby potato cellar.

**15. Present**

What drove me to that cellar, Father? Was it self preservation? Was it fear? Was it shame?

There was talk of how the vampires can turn humans into other vampires. Certainly, I was thinking that the mob would kill me instead of letting me turn.

Maybe self preservation was the cause leading me to the cellar, but, Father, as I lay there in agony with venom converting me from human to vampire, I kept thinking of you.

I kept thinking how you would confirm what I already believed and I could not bear it.

You would pronounce me damned and a servant of the devil.

The pain I was experiencing was my soul being ripped away from me. I had failed Lisbet. Not only did I fail to destroy the demons for God, but I was now going to be one of them.

Beyond the agony of my transformation, I could not bear the thought of what I would become and what that meant for the souls of Lisbet and I..


	8. Chapter 8

16. Present

I have no recollection of the mob passing me by in that moldy potato cellar. I have no recollection of how I entered the cellar, nor can I recall why I fell to the place I did. All that I can remember is thinking how I failed, and pain.

Pain from the gash surely bleeding over the ground.

Pain from the burning reaching deep inside of me.

Pain from the noise all around me. No, that wasn't around me. It was in me. Something animal caged and straining to get free.

My soul was being torn from within me. Each stitch placed carefully by my Creator being destroyed piece by piece.

I felt all of it. I was in total agony. There was no relief. I was certain that I was being punished because I was never granted the mercy of losing consciousness. I was awake for each second of my transformation.

Life went on in the city of London. For three days people passed, they laughed, they cried and they lived. All while right beneath their feet, I died. Then, it was over.

Silence. It wasn't the absence of sound but instead I could hear it better. I heard more, but I no longer struggled to place the sounds. Images of the horse's foot hitting the ground was immediately followed with the images of people laughing and talking. Every sound was precise and exact so that where I was in these awful potatoes, I could vividly see the activities taking place around me. I could even hear the mice in the cellar, or perhaps I was even hearing all the mice in all the cellars.

Every sense held this same precision. So many things were happening around me; yet, all my senses were working together in such a way I wasn't overwhelmed, but instead, more focused.

As I marveled at these new sensations, I remembered what this meant. I was a vampire. I was the servant of the Devil. God had judged me and found me unworthy.

"I failed you Lisbet. Our souls will be forever damned because I failed," I whispered into the darkness.

I became aware of a ravenous thirst. I knew what this must mean. It was time. The Devil owned me and was expecting me to carry out his will.

I could not do this work. I would not let him use me to destroy. I firmly resolved to stay in the cellar until the walls of the cellar had crumbled to dust. That was not to be. As my hunger grew, so did my fear. I was not afraid for myself, but instead for someone finding me. It would be a mercy it they would find me and end this life; however, what if I am too strong? How many people would I kill before they would finally kill me? This thought was too much for me to bear. I burst free of the cellar and raced away from London.

As I emerged from the cellar, I could smell the blood of the people outside. I could hear their blood coursing through their veins. It was calling to me; driving me to a frenzy from thirst.

I ran. My mind was racing. I could taste the blood as I passed. The smells and sounds were so vivid I could taste it. I was losing control as my mind gave way to the animal thirst. I must have the blood.

I ran. I kept forcing one foot before the other. Blind movement now I was running and jumping, pushing myself to get the most distance possible.

As I was able to get further away, I could not taste the blood. Soon, I couldn't smell it either. Eventually, the frenzy subsided but the thirst remained.

This strengthened my resolve. I was regaining control. Certainly, with this much thirst, my body would be already beginning to weaken. If I could hold off long enough, I could starve by body of nutrient so that I may destroy myself before I hurt another.

I decided at that moment that I must end my own life.

Father, surely my intentions were a sin; however, I was already damned. In my last act, I would take my life and spare another.

I kept moving so that I would not encounter humans. I could not sleep. I would run as hard as I could, yet I would not tire. In a fit of frustration and search for relief, I rushed headlong into an outcropping of rock hoping to knock myself unconscious. To my surprise, I hardly felt the hit; yet, the rock disintegrated as if it were made of ice. I felt that I was stronger; however, this proved that. I marveled at the lack of pain.

I had an acute sense of my surroundings. My senses working together in perfect harmony. I could identify scents and sounds of everythings around me. At one point, I could sense danger. I could almost visualize the location based on sound and smell. Instinctively, I knew a bear was stalking prey, even though I perceived it to be of considerable distance to where I was at the time. One night, in an attempt to distract my ever maddening mind, I counted hawks in the surrounding area. It was only after that night did I consider the marvel at the fact I was capable of doing this.

The saliva in my mouth had changed. It seemed sweeter and made my teeth seem slicker as my tongue passed over them. Then, there was my tooth. The one I had broken when I was nine. No longer did I feel the broken rubble of the tooth. It was replaced with one in perfect condition.

My eyes and my joints moved more freely. I had no feelings of pain. I could see no scars or other destruction on my skin. That is, with the exception of my neck. I could feel the horrible remains of where the vampire had bitten me. The wound seemed to have healed, but the remains felt ghastly.

I kept telling myself none of this mattered, even as I marveled at the changes that had occurred. I would be dead soon; yet, days passed without food or drink and the only change was the ferocity with which my thirst took hold of me.

Days turned into weeks. Without proper measurement of time, I cannot be certain how long I tried to starve myself, but it was apparent this would not work. I was hiding in a cave up in the mountains of northern England. From time to time, I would catch the scent of humans, so I would run from it until it was gone. This time, however, my mind was so maddened by the thirst, I was compelled to run toward it. At some point, I regained enough of my senses to realize what I was doing enough that I diverted my path and threw myself off of a cliff to the rock floor below.

As I fell, I tried to position so that I would land head first; however, when I reached the ground, I was on my feet. Like a cat, I landed on my feet with no pain or injury. The scent was pulling me stronger, so I ran with whatever will I had left to escape it. I came across what looked like a deep pool of water, so I plunged in. I hoped the water would block the scent; however, once in the water I decided that perhaps I could drown myself in this well. I swam deeper and deeper following the wall of the pool wedging myself under the rock outcroppings to insure I do not float back up.

At some point, I realized I had stopped breathing. I stopped swimming and held myself under the rock trying to understand how I could live, yet not breathe. Or have a heartbeat either; for there in the silent depths of the pool, only the movement of the water and the creatures living around it could be heard.

Realizing the futility of my efforts to commit suicide, I returned to the cave. In the darkness, I suffered my fate. Regardless of everything I try, I will lose control and give in to the thirst for human blood.

Mad with thirst I called out to God, "My God, how could you abandon me so completely? Is there no redemption from a mistake? How could you treat your child this way?"

I paced the cave hitting the walls and destroying the rock. Maybe a landslide could end my suffering? No, I knew better. There was no hope for me. There was…

The scent. A herd of deer nearby. My thirst overwhelmed me and took control. I raced into the herd and took down a great buck. I ravaged it's neck and drank in the warm blood. It filled me. I needed more. I chased more deer and fed on them until finally, after several deer, my thirst had been extinguished. I was satisfied. My mind had quietened and I was calm.

Could it be possible that I could satisfy the need for human blood with the blood of animals? Is it possible that I can control the demon inside me? Only time would tell. I would need to grow thirsty again.

Realizing now that I was covered with blood and debris of several days, I made my way back to the pool and bathed. My mind was filled with possibilities and an eagerness to understand myself more.

I washed the remains of my clothes at the side of the pool. It was then that I saw myself reflected in the moonlight for the first time. I was bigger. I had more muscles and definition. My skin was pale, yet hauntingly beautiful. Framed by the moonlight in the pool, I was reminded of the statues in the great cathedrals of London.

Standing there nude on the banks of the pool, I watched my reflection for a moment, then, looked across the water expecting to see Lisbet. No, she was gone. It was a pool like this where I stood before her naked and we sinned. It was that moment that I had damned us to Hell.

I fell to my knees and wept.


	9. Chapter 9

17. Present

I found a way, Father. I could quench the thirst while not doing the work of the devil. Wasn't that something good?

I made my home in the cave while I waited for the thirst to return. During the day, I would wander the countryside testing my new abilities. At night, I would sit in silence. I could not sleep, so I was left to my thoughts.

I remembered everything. I found that I could remember everything back to day of my birth. I remember when the midwife placed me on my mother's chest. I remember the depth of her eyes as she looked upon me. I remember the first time I felt the sensation of being loved. It came through the warmth from her eyes. I would not see that again until I met my Lisbet.

I remember Mother's screams as they took me away. I remember your agonized face when you first held me. You were cold and distant. I did not see the same love.

There were so many memories. There were childhood fights and childhood friends. I had memories of my dreams and could recall the things I had wondered about so much. My nights were filled with memories. They soothed me as I revisited them. They all were moments that connected to each other.

I was eleven when Constance Tollet told me she loved me. She held my hand as we walked to school. She told everyone we were going to get married. I never saw that look in her eyes though. There was quite literally something inside me that pulled me to Lisbet. When I first saw her, my heart desperately tried to run to her. I felt her presence inside me at the moment we met. In the rain, when she told me she loved me it was not just a statement as it was with Ernestine. It was a completion of a quest my soul had been on without me ever knowing.

It pained me so to recall her, but it was also wonderful because with my new found recollection I could vividly recall every detail of her and every moment we spent together.

After my hunger was satisfied the second time by deer, I was sure that I could sustain my life in this way. I could avoid killing a human; however, my loneliness proved that I could not avoid humans altogether.

18. 1665 - Summer

I decided to leave my cave and begin slowly moving closer to where I would come across the path of humans. I was careful, deliberate, and slow. The scent of human blood still would call to me; however, I could maintain control and not rush to attack them. I would remain at the same distance until I could manage the desire the scent would create. Then, I would move closer and start over again. I continued doing this moving closer and closer to civilization. I would feed on deer or other animals as needed; however, over time even the frequency of my need to feed was reduced.

So it was that I found myself on the outskirts of a deserted village. By the scent I could tell the humans had not been gone long from this place. As I crossed the treeline and could see the village more clearly I saw that it was not deserted, but instead recently sacked by bandits. Although my senses were warning me there was danger, my curiosity got the best of me, so I moved closer.

It seemed there may still be humans nearby, so I moved quietly into the ruins of the town church. The building had been destroyed by fire. The roof collapsed inside and the sun shone through. I picked my way through the debris and found myself looking at a wardrobe still in good condition. Opening it, I was surprised to find my reflection in a mirror.

My skin looked like the rocks in the quarry sparkling under the sun. Although I had seen the shine from my skin I had not realized the magnitude that I reflected the light. My skin was illuminating the room. The light bounced and danced and the breeze gently blew the dust and ash around. I was captivated by the change. As I continued to look at my reflection in the mirror I saw that my blue eyes were gone. They were now golden and bright. My hair remained blonde; however, it seemed more full and shimmered.

There were clothes in the wardrobe. Some priestly robes, but also a set of clothes I can assume only belonged to the minister. I changed into them as they were close to my size and in much better condition than the rags I was wearing. I returned to the image in the mirror and marveled once again at the transformation that had occurred.

The scent of blood was beginning to be strong, and it was becoming difficult to control my thirst. With one last look into the mirror, I left the church.

I followed the wall of the church passing along a low garden wall until I came to the back wall of another building. Following this, I found myself on the edge of the market square. There was in smoldering ruin from the fires. I saw overturned tables and an overturned cart, and beside the cart I saw a body. The body, lying with its back toward me, was in a pool of blood. Seeing the blood I was thrown into a frenzy. I raced away from the square only to find more bodies and more blood. The urge overtook me, and I started racing toward the scent of the live humans.

I was overwhelmed with the thirst as I raced through the streets and alleys. I could smell the humans near, but they were moving. My mind was racing too fast with the frenzy of the blood for me to properly find them. I ran through the alley and turned toward the scent. I found myself facing a little boy. He was disheveled and dirty. Streaks ran down his face where his tears had mixed with the dirt. His hair was matted with blood. His clothes were bloody as well. They were torn and dirty.

Ready to strike, my muscles were tense and my mouth watered in anticipation of the blood. As I moved to strike, the child looked up at me.

"Are you an angel?" he asked.

I was startled by the question long enough to regain my composure. Here I am about to taste my first human and it is from this? From an innocent child?

I forced myself to run. I ran as fast as I could away from the village straight to a boar. I satisfied my thirst with the boar. I was able to regain control and consider what had just happened. I was fine one moment then a raging monster the next. The thirst is so strong and consuming. I understood it's power now and knew I would have to work much longer before I could safely coexist with humans.

I will never forget the irony of the child's question.

It would take some time for me to feel I was once again in control of the urge for human blood. The smell of the freshly spilled blood in that village was so strong that I had to start the process of overcoming the desire all over again. As I would meditate at night, I would envision the child who just witnessed the destruction of his town. I would see myself losing control and feasting on the child. This thought was so horrible that it stood to remind my why I was working so hard to control the thirst.

During the time I was working to manage my thirst I also began to feel additional changes within my body. In addition to the heightened senses and physical changes, I was also experiencing a change in my mental state. My emotions were stronger. I felt more of a connection to things. My compassion for humans was changing. I always felt that we should do for others and through Lisbet I went through the motions of serving others; however, I never felt such a compelling desire to do something. Humanity endured such suffering. I felt I must act on their behalf. These powers should be used to do something good and not what they were intended to be.

My first thoughts went to the village. I should find the bandits and take revenge for the slain villagers. With my new powers I could be a vigilante for justice. As I considered this I realized that the thought of causing a human harm was so repulsive it made me physically ill. It didn't matter whether righteous or not, I could not cause a human any harm. I could not be the avenging angel, so I needed to find another way.

This, coupled with a severe loneliness, drove me back to the streets of London.


	10. Chapter 10

**19. 1666 - London - Fall**

I was interrupted from my meditations by the smell of fire. I had been moving closer to London in anticipation of my attempts to reconnect with humanity. I was still a fair distance away in a meadow near the main road. I spent the night near a cluster of trees. Although I no longer required sleep, I did feel a certain amount of refreshment and retained a bit of my human schedules by meditating overnight.

The smell had me under the belief that there was a forest fire nearby. I wouldn't be surprised as it had been rather dry of late. As I looked around, I was surprised the see the sun rising. It was rising from the west toward London. Obviously, this was a great forest fire so I decided to investigate.

As I drew nearer to London, I began encountering people on the road.

"No accident I tell you. It's revenge. Them Dutch people coming back at us," the old man said as he passed by.

I drew closer and the road was congested with more refugees. I could see, even from this distance, that London was ablaze. I was compelled by an overwhelming desire to help. Moving faster I was finding the roads becoming more congested.

"Westminster is gone. No one knows where the King is," I overheard from a passing woman.

"I heard there are burning bodies everywhere all puffed out and black," said a young boy.

"Liar, bodies don't turn black," responded his companion.

The throng of people was growing. From the conversations of the people leaving the city, I learned that the fire started in a bakery on Puddington Street. It had already consumed the homes and buildings nearby and was leaping street by street burning everything in it's wake.

As I started to move into London proper, I moved to the shadows and lept to the rooftops. This way I could move more quickly to the scene of the fire. From this vantage point I could see much of London was ablaze. I panicked.

"Lisbet," I called aloud and quickly navigated my way to her street. By the time I arrived, the house was gone. I stood dumbfounded staring at the smouldering rubble of the place that held such joy and sorrow for me. The fire had grown so great that it was blowing the wind violently. The night sky was filled with embers from the blaze. I felt nothing. Every trace of my Lisbet was gone.

"Help me," a woman cried. It roused me from my despair.

"Help!Help!" the woman cried out again.

The streets were deserted here where the fire was still blazing. I rushed to find the woman. The smell of the smoke and ash were very overpowering. It masked the scent of the woman.

"I'm here!" I shouted.

"Help!" the woman called out again.

The noise of the fire was deafening. I knew she was nearby but I could not determine where. Then, I heard her scream. I rushed toward the sound.

"Where are you!?" I shouted.

"Help me! I'm in the potato cellar!" she replied.

No time to revisit the memory of potato cellars, I kept moving toward the sound of her voice.

"Which one?" I shouted

"Last one!" she cried back frantically.

I charged toward the house at the end of the street. It was still ablaze and collapsing in on itself. Rushing around the house, I found the cellar door blocked by burning timbers.

"Are you there?" I called.

"Yes, yes, I hear you! I can't get the door open and part of the ceiling just fell in!" she cried.

No time to think, I burst through the door into the cellar splintering the wood behind me. The cellar was filling with smoke. The woman was on her knees opposite of where I burst in.

"How?" she said.

I did not answer, but instead rushed to her side and held her to me.

"I have you," I said.

Picking her up I carried her from the cellar to the street.

"What? How?" was all she could say as I set her on her feet.

She was by no means a little woman. Quite large in fact. She should have been too much weight for me to bear.

"The alley at the end of the street is clear. Follow it and you will find the fire brigade," I replied and quickly left her there in the street.

I couldn't answer the questions and now that my ears were more attuned to the sounds around me I could hear cries for help from all directions.

After assisting several more people, I came to the edge of the fire in the northwest side of London. The fire had been stopped by the river to the south, but here it was still advancing quickly.

"Pull! Bring it down boys!" one of the fire brigade was shouting.

They were demolishing houses in the path of the fire. I knew I couldn't help them directly, so I moved to other houses in the path and started weakening them by destroying load bearing walls. This way when the brigade arrived to demolish, they would find the job much easier.

"Houses several streets over are catching fire. How do you reckon that John?" I overheard one of the fire brigade.

"Somebody is setting the fires," he replied.

I moved to the rooftops again to see if I could find the arsonists. In the rush of the morning's events, I did not have a chance to look at the scene unfolding. From here, I could see fires clear to the river. The wind was moving the embers in tornado currents. Dawn was breaking. To the east I could see sunrise. Around me, London was in a rainstorm of embers. People weren't setting the fires. The embers blown through the streets of London like flocks of fireflies were landing on the houses, buildings, and people. I could hear more calls for help, so I left the brigade in search of the trapped victims.

By midmorning, the blaze had consumed most of the northwest homes and businesses. From Cheapside to Three Cranes, there was nothing but smoldering ruin. Hundreds of displaced people were gathering at the south side of the river. I went there for a few moments of respite from the flames.

"Been at the fires have you?" an older man asked me.

"I have. It's a desperate situation," I replied.

"Will be more desperate soon enough," he said.

"The brigades are overwhelmed, the fire is moving too fast," I said

"I hear they are asking for volunteers. I bet we're all in it soon enough," he replied

"I am sure you are right. They are demolishing buildings in the northwest. They're trying to establish a firebreak," I said

"Not going to do a lot of good if they just keep lighting new fires," he replied.

"It's the embers being blown about by the wind," I said.

"No, it's the Catholics. They can't get people to come to church so they are burning them out. They want to make a new holy city I hear," he replied.

"That's absurd, no Catholic is going to kill and destroy the Protestants. This isn't the Inquisition," I replied.

"Mark my words, by the end of the day we'll see the churches all burned to the ground," he said as he walked away.

More people passed and I heard more and more that the fires were purposely set. The culprits varied. For the most part blame was placed on the Dutch. It was rumored that the fires were the first step in an invasion. Rioting and violence broke out. There was no one to restore order. The people were starved for information and in the absence of information they were coming up with their own conclusions. I returned to the fire line.

"Lord Bluetooth can't be found," a man nearby said. I started walking toward him.

"Good, I hope the mayor is in one of these houses here," his companion replied.

"Who's in charge then?" I asked.

"I heard the Duke of York is," said the first man.

"Where you come from?" said the second.

"I came from by the river. It's a terrible scene with people looting and rioting," I replied.

"Won't be much longer now that the Duke is running things," said the second man.

"I hope so. The people really need to know what's happening so they don't feel abandoned," I said.

"The people really need to get their asses over here and help us," said the first as he passed me a cigarette.

I spent the rest of the day helping the fire brigade bring down buildings. By the afternoon the Duke had organized the displaced men into groups that paired with the fire brigades. It was a massive effort but seemed to be doing little good. By nightfall, not even the stone walls of Baynard's Castle could stop the blaze. I watched as the castle burned to the ground, leaving only stone ruins behind.

"What day is it?" I asked a man passing by.

"It's Monday, sir," he replied.

"No, I mean what is the date?" I asked.

"Monday, September the third," he replied.

"And, what year is it?" I asked

Looking at me oddly he replied, "It's 1666, sir. Are you alright?"

"Yes, fine," I replied as I hurried away.

Three years had passed. Three years since I left this great city and now I return just in time to watch it's destruction.

"Father," I thought and left the scene to return to our home.

The house was empty, but I heard activity at the church. Rushing to it, I could see that my father was giving a sermon. The church was so full, that people were standing outside. I crept to the back of the church and slipped in the window of the attic.

"The pillars of fire reaching to the heavens is God's judgement. The demons of Satan are in the city. God is purging the demons through fire. Such that the devil was cast to the eternal pits of flame, so to are the demons that plague our city," my father was saying.

"All of the demons from hell must be purged from our city before we can stand pure in the judgement of God," he continued.

Father was older. His back was curved and he was having difficulty standing. His beliefs, however, had not changed.

I left the church and returned to the forests outside London where I fed and meditated on the days events.

**20. Present**

Father, your words were like daggers to my heart. I had been gone for three years and so wanted to reconnect with my roots, but I knew that you would see me as one of those demons that needed to be purged from the city. You would want nothing but to destroy me. I knew that I could never have a relationship with you regardless of how I had learned to manage my thirst.

Meditating that night I marveled at the events. I am sure that you were overwhelmed as well. Our city was being destroyed with no end in sight. This would change everything for you and all those I once called friends.

I was overcome with emotion that night. On the one hand, I lost every stitch of my former life. On the other hand, I reconnected with humans. Not only did I speak to them, I held them. I carried them through the fire. I was filled with my compassion for the people suffering in London. By dawn I returned to London to aid in whatever way that I could.


End file.
